26-10-14
01:31
Cesar Vallejo
Black Stone on Top of a White Stone
I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm,
On a day I already remember.
I shall die in Paris-- it does not bother --
Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn.
It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday
As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders
To the evil. Never like today have I turned,
And headed my whole journey to the ways where I am alone.
César Vallejo is dead. They struck him,
All of them, though he did nothing to them,
They hit him hard with a stick and hard also
With the end of a rope. Witnesses are: the Thursdays,
the loneliness, the rain, and the roads.
Black Stone on Top of a White Stone
I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm,
On a day I already remember.
I shall die in Paris-- it does not bother --
Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn.
It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday
As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders
To the evil. Never like today have I turned,
And headed my whole journey to the ways where I am alone.
César Vallejo is dead. They struck him,
All of them, though he did nothing to them,
They hit him hard with a stick and hard also
With the end of a rope. Witnesses are: the Thursdays,
the loneliness, the rain, and the roads.
Σημείωση: Το μήνυμα αυτό γράφτηκε 9 χρόνια πριν. Ο συντάκτης του πιθανόν να έχει αλλάξει απόψεις έκτοτε.
10-10-14
02:45
Robert Louis Stevenson - Goodbye to the farm
The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children, mounting fast
And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
To house and garden, field and lawn,
To meadow-gates we swung upon,
To pump and stable, tree and swing,
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
And fare you well for evermore,
O ladder at the hayloft door,
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last, round the woody turn we swing;
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children, mounting fast
And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
To house and garden, field and lawn,
To meadow-gates we swung upon,
To pump and stable, tree and swing,
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
And fare you well for evermore,
O ladder at the hayloft door,
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last, round the woody turn we swing;
"Good-bye, good-bye, to everything"
Σημείωση: Το μήνυμα αυτό γράφτηκε 9 χρόνια πριν. Ο συντάκτης του πιθανόν να έχει αλλάξει απόψεις έκτοτε.